


A Horse That Loves You

by Lemur710



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bamf!Magnus, M/M, some moderate violence and gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8768764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemur710/pseuds/Lemur710
Summary: Magnus rushes into battle to rescue Jace—and comes to terms with what it means to love a shadowhunter with a parabatai.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mia_Zeklos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/gifts).



> Written before the airing of season two, so forgive what will inevitably end up being non-canon compliant elements. Also, I’ve not read the books, so I’m building off the TV series and tiny bits gleaned from fandom. Penned expressly for Mia_Zeklos for the Malec Secret Santa 2016—I tried to explore the Alec/Magnus/Jace dynamic for you. I hope you’re entertained! :)

Magnus was about 10 seconds from using a sleeping spell on Alec when the first explosion went off. They all scattered, soldiers to action, and Magnus lost sight of him in the smoke and flames. But he’d been running, shoulders strong and bow drawn. Alec had been uninjured and ready to fight. Magnus clung to that now as he crouched in the darkness hours later. He could taste blood on his teeth.

“Here.”

Magnus swallowed the metallic tang, and peered down the corridor littered with fallen debris and bodies.

“Hey,” Luke said more firmly. He shoved the bottle of water against Magnus’s shoulder. “Take a drink.”

“I’m fine. We need to keep moving.”

“Drink the damn water, Magnus.”

Magnus snatched the bottle and sloshed a spiteful sip into his mouth. His parched tongue seemed to come alive, desperate and thirsty, which is exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. Now, it would be harder to ignore. He tossed the bottle back at Luke. In the dim, he could just make out the tears in Luke’s shirt, the blood on his cheek. He didn’t imagine he looked much better. A shame, really. His vest had been such nice velvet. 

“Which way?” Magnus asked, then watched as Luke’s green eyes grew bright. 

“Corridor narrows up ahead. Looks like a cave in,” Luke said, jawline hard. “There’s a way through, maybe two feet around.” The two green points of light shifted to Magnus. “You don’t get claustrophobic, do you?”

“Lead the way.” Magnus pressed himself against the wall to let Luke pass and he fell in line behind him, crawling forward on belly and elbows. His fingers hit Luke’s boots every few feet. One felt scraped raw and he doubted his nail polish had survived, nor the gold filament on his buttons. Debris and fallen stone littered the path and dug into his arms through the fine linen of his shirt.

Alec had looked so tired. That’s all Magnus could think about. It played on his nerves. Alec had fallen asleep at his loft three days ago, but Magnus couldn’t recall seeing him sleep since then. Of course, he’d not been with him every moment—there had been clients, leads to follow—and surely Isabelle would have noticed and made her big brother rest. Surely, Alec himself would know he needed to sleep.

“Hold up a sec,” Luke said, pausing.

Magnus stopped, sensing the soles of Luke’s shoes barely inches from his face. “What is it?” He could feel the ragged walls closed tight all around them. It reminded him of caving in Kentucky in the 1890s. 

“Company up ahead. Hold here. We’ll see if they clear out, let us use some stealth for once.”

Magnus tried to concentrate. He could make out the stamp of feet, some distant voices. “Do you hear Jace?”

“I do,” Luke answered slowly. “I think I do.” He settled in the tunnel, feet just missing Magnus’s nose. “You doing okay? You up for this?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know when we’re all clear.” 

Magnus nodded, then said, “Okay,” in case Luke couldn’t see him. 

Alec had been so tired. He’d smiled up at Magnus, slow and sleepy, when he’d woken him. Jacket and boots still on, he’d crashed on his couch, dead to the world. But he blinked awake when Magnus tried to untie his shoes, and he’d smiled like Magnus had been just who he’d wanted to see. 

The past few months, they’d grown closer. They’d kissed more, talked more, explored and held one another. Alec confided in him, trusted him. They’d curled up on Magnus’s bed that night, on top of the covers and clothed, and they’d talked of almost nothing but Jace. It felt so much like when Jace first left with Valentine those months ago. It was like nothing had changed at all.

Alec told him fond stories and Magnus heard tales of reckless youth. Jace was troubled and unhinged, and by the sounds of it, he always had been. That he’d run off, gotten himself caught in this trap, and brought them all to this crumbling warehouse confirmed it. 

It was that night, just three days ago, that Magnus finally understood. It broke through him like dawn, illuminating everything he’d not let himself see. Watching Alec’s lovely mouth curve around tales of boyish brashness, Magnus realized, _He’ll never love anyone like he loves Jace_ , and it sank through his chest like a stone. He blinked. From the outside, that was the only indication of the seismic shift that had happened inside him. 

“You okay?” Alec asked, when he noticed Magnus’s silence and stillness.

“Mmhm,” Magnus hummed. He lifted a hand to brush Alec’s hair from his forehead, stroked his cheek. “But you should get more sleep.”

“Can I stay here?”

“Of course.”

“Will you stay with me?”

Magnus smiled and it hurt. “I’d like that.”

Alec lifted his head, searching for the kiss Magnus gave him easily. It felt like grief, though Magnus didn’t want it to. Nothing had truly changed. Perhaps he’d had some childish daydream that, faced with another memory demon, the image of who Alec loved the most might one day be him. But it never would be, and he didn’t want Alec to sacrifice like that again anyway. Magnus loved Alec, and he knew—truly _knew_ now—that Alec would never love anyone as much as he loved Jace. Magnus accepted the grief into his heart and kissed him. 

Belly down in the tunnel, he wiped at his nose and his hand came away gritty. He was layered in dirt and grime, like he’d crawled from a grave. “What’s it like, the parabatai bond?” he asked Luke. “Can you feel... What do you feel?”

“It’s hard to describe,” Luke said. He let out a long breath. “It’s like...It’s like having another heartbeat, but one that feels just like yours. Their pain is your pain. It’s like being half of a whole.”

Something painful twisted in Magnus’s gut. He rested his cheek on his folded arms, though the rock beneath him was uneven and uncomfortable.

“I know I should have been able to see everything coming.” Luke’s voice took on a desperate, frustrated edge. “All those years ago, I should have felt _something_. I keep going over it in my head—”

“I don’t blame you, Luke. That’s not why I asked.”

Luke went silent, as if thinking, then, “He can’t feel all of it,” he said. “Alec. He’ll feel some of Jace’s pain, but not all of it. He’ll be okay.”

Magnus nodded and felt ashamed because that hadn’t been why he asked either. But maybe Luke had answered his question after all. Parabatai could only think of each other.

“They’re moving out,” Luke said. “Let’s go.”

It was minutes, or it could have been an hour, Magnus would never be sure. They crept from the relative safety of their confines into a towering factory floor that hadn’t been fully destroyed by the explosions. But they were alone for barely seconds before the guards sounded the alarm. 

Amidst fallen concrete and shattered glass, Magnus spied gold-blond hair and charged. “Magnus! Wait!” Luke yelled, but he went unheard. Magnus braced his hand on a splintered rafter beam and vaulted over. Luke thundered at his heels, his wolf’s growl fierce as dozens of Circle members and their mutated army poured in. Arrows shot down from archers perched on a storage floor overhead, and uniformed soldiers armed with blades advanced. 

As he ran, Magnus could see Jace crumpled on his side, hugging his body. He looked battered and injured, maybe unconscious. “Jace!” Magnus yelled, and blasted the creatures who tried to block his way. Blue energy fired from his hands and sent them flying like dried leaves. “Luke, over here!” With a furious roar, Luke leapt and his massive paws landed by Jace, blocking him, guarding him.

Magnus scrambled over concrete. “Jace, hold onto me!” he shouted, and felt hands grab his knee. It was both helpful and disheartening; only a horribly weak Jace Wayland would obey an order without fussing. “Luke,” Magnus commanded, throat ragged. Luke’s furred haunch pressed against his hip, creating the physical contact Magnus needed to protect him.

With a pulsing roar of magic, Magnus raised his hands and slapped them together. The resulting thunderclap shook the free-standing walls and a wave of cobalt blue dropped from the sky like a sudden monsoon. Power trembled like an earthquake beneath his skin. He glared with his bare eyes as enemies turned to ash. The cavernous space filled with shrieks of terror, the flaming wet squelch of flesh, the scent of burning skin—and then, silence.

No, not silence. Quiet, but for the panting breaths of the High Warlock of Brooklyn with blood on his teeth, the small gasps of the wounded shadowhunter at his feet, and the low growl of the werewolf by his side. 

“Jace, you all right?” Luke broke the stillness first, crouching at Jace’s side in front of Magnus, back in his human form. He was covered in blood. They were all covered in blood. Magnus felt it tacky and warm on his skin. Jace blinked up at him, eyes wide, and Magnus didn’t know what to make of the shuttered fear he saw there.

“Is he all right?” he asked Luke, somehow unable to hold Jace’s stare.

“I’m okay.” Jace coughed, dry and painful. His hands looked swollen, more than one finger broken. 

Magnus looked up and around them. Fractured glass and mountains of rubble on all sides, no clear or easy path in any direction.

“Can you walk?” Luke asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

Jace leaned on him heavily as Luke helped him to his feet. A gash had gutted black leather, exposing the oozing, infected wound on his left thigh. Luke pulled Jace’s arm around his shoulder and the two began the climb toward the nearest way out. Stepping down to follow them, Magnus gasped and dropped to his knees, pain slicing through him.

“Magnus?” It took a few long seconds for Luke to steady Jace and run to him. 

“Their archers did better than I thought.” Magnus pressed his palm to his waist and felt the damp sting of raw flesh. “It’s okay. It’s just a graze. Keep going.”

Luke shook his head. “Jace’s leg is busted and you look like hell. I’ll go find the others.”

“The others? Are they here?” Jace asked. He stood only a few feet away and down, perched shakily beside a large, rough-edged slab of concrete. “We have to go help them.”

At the same moment, Magnus said, “We can’t just wait here. We have to find them. We need to get Jace back,” and tried to take a step forward, only to find an imposing werewolf in the way.

“Both of you, shut up.” Luke put his hands out, turning to give them both a disapproving glower. “You’re worse than useless to them. You’re injured just enough to get yourselves killed, so sit down.”

Magnus glanced at Jace and Jace glanced at him. Neither moved. 

“Sit. Down.” Luke’s eyes glowed green, the alpha tone vibrating through his words, and though Magnus wasn’t a werewolf, he found it hard to refuse. “Please, you need to rest,” he said, and this time he sounded so much kinder. That, perhaps, was even harder to refuse. 

Magnus took a knee, then lowered to sit on his backside, wincing all the while. By the time he’d settled on the cold stone, he looked to see Jace seated on the slab below. 

“Luke,” Magnus whispered, low enough that he hoped Jace couldn’t hear. Luke knelt before him, listening. Magnus held his gaze steady. “I need to get Jace back to Alec.”

Luke stared at him, quiet and inspecting. “We will, Magnus,” he said. “We’re going to get you back to him, too. Think you can climb down? You’re a sitting duck up here.”

Magnus nodded and accepted Luke’s help down the rubble to sit beside Jace. The wound in his side tugged and screamed with every movement, but already Magnus could feel the blood slowing. 

“Okay,” Luke soothed, taking his hands from Magnus’s shoulders. “I’m going to find the others. Can you hold the fort?”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Of course I can,” he said, sparking magic between his fingers.

Luke nodded and placed the half-full water bottle between them. “I’ll be back. Stay awake, both of you.” Then, he dropped to all fours in his wolf form and bounded across the piles of rock with enviable grace.

“Jeez, he makes that look easy.” Jace huffed a labored breath.

“Hold still,” Magnus ordered. He hovered his hand over the gash in Jace’s thigh. Magic poured from his palm, seeking out the infection.

“It’s not that bad. You don’t have to—”

“I said hold still. A hundred years ago, this would’ve been amputated.”

Jace winced and his leg trembled. Out of the corner of his eye, Magnus noted his hand tensing into a fist. He knew it stung, his magic sweeping through to remove pus and foreign particles. Finally, the flesh returned to a healthy pink and sealed over. 

Magnus sat back with a gasp, his head spinning. He closed his eyes, but that only made it worse. Nausea bubbled in his stomach. He couldn’t lift his head from the stone. The jagged concrete felt sharp on his scalp through his blood-matted hair.

“Magnus, hey, here.” Jace turned to him, hand on his shoulder. He held the water to Magnus’s lips, forcing a small swallow. It helped.

Magnus pushed Jace away with a weak hand. It was harder than it should have been to say, “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Jace replied.

Magnus leaned bonelessly against the stone and Jace settled beside him. The weathered leather of his jacket touched the torn fabric of Magnus’s shirt, shoulders side by side, legs outstretched.

Magnus didn’t want to talk, not really. Jace had his reasons—he always had his reasons—but this was avoidable. He shouldn’t have done this alone. He shouldn’t have withheld information from Alec, Isabelle, and Clary. But Magnus understood, too. He’d heard Alec’s stories and knew how broken Jace felt sometimes. Broken people make bad choices. Magnus had been that person often enough to recognize it. 

Jace turned to him, eyes swimming. For the battle-hardened warrior Magnus knew he was, Jace looked more like a hurt little boy than anything else. “Are they okay? Is everyone okay?”

“Not really,” Magnus answered honestly. “Everyone loses their minds when you’re gone. Alec hasn’t slept in three days. He forgets to eat. When you’re not there, he—” He swallowed and shook his head. The setting sun began to steal away the light and he looked out into the falling dusk.

“I’m sorry,” Jace said lowly.

Magnus sighed. “A long time ago, I knew a Bedouin man who raised horses,” he said, watching dust drift in the last pale sunbeam. “Beautiful Arabian horses. His family had done it for generations. Other people had cats and dogs, this man had horses. I remember drinking with him one night and he told me, ‘You must be careful with a horse that loves you because it will run for you until its heart stops.’” Magnus turned to Jace. His own gaze felt as hard and cold as Jace’s was soft and hurt.

Jace swallowed. “Alec isn’t a horse.”

“No, but he loves you,” Magnus said, and saying it made his heart wrench. Romantic love, brotherly love, or that parabatai bond he’d never fully understand, but it was a fact: Alec loved Jace more than anyone. “And he would run for you until it kills him.” Magnus grabbed the water and took a mouthful, if only to distract himself. He felt Jace watching him. “Your life isn’t just yours, Jace. It’s his, too. It’s Isabelle’s and Clary’s and Simon’s. It’s even mine.”

Magnus faced him again, that gentle damaged look. He wished for his old friend spite, or for the immaturity that would let him hate what Alec loved. But he’d grown out of those feelings long ago. Magnus took a breath, a shallow inhale that took too much energy. Talking took too much energy. His head felt too heavy for the unsteady stalk of his neck. “It hurts all of us when you hurt yourself.”

Jace opened his mouth to respond, but Magnus never got to hear it. One moment they were alone; the next, several soldiers pounced on them. One seized Magnus by his shirt collar and slammed her fist against his face. Dazed, he heard Jace’s grunt next to him as more piled on. Magnus flicked his wrist and blasted the woman. She shrieked as she flew back, but rough hands quickly replaced hers. He’d tired himself out, Magnus knew it. He didn’t have the energy left to be deadly.

Not with his magic anyway.

He gritted bloody teeth and kicked, booted foot landing hard against an unprotected shin. One man dropped, crying out. Magnus kicked again, knocking the breath out of another, and landed a ring-laden upper cut to someone’s jaw. Shouts filled the air as the last rays of sunlight disappeared. “Over here!” Luke yelled, and running footsteps followed. Footsteps and the whisper of arrows. The hands seizing Magnus suddenly released. Like a puppet cut loose, he dropped to the concrete.

Voices called for him, but he couldn’t answer. He felt cold stone against his cheek and couldn’t lift his head. Darkness overtook him.  


____________

He lost track of time. He felt hands lifting him, worried muttering all around him. He saw the checkerboard ceiling of the infirmary at the Institute. He saw the Argentine psychic who had shared his house outside Bucharest, but that was in 1835 and she died long ago. He saw Luke—thankfully Luke—there to steady him at the toilet before he fell back to stare at the checkboard ceiling again. 

He awoke finally to the sharp click of Isabelle’s heels on the tile. It looked like night, though Magnus supposed it could be almost any time of day. If there were windows to the outside, they weren’t near him. Breathing in, he smelled ointments and the menthol sting of disinfectants. He was shirtless, a bandage fastened to his injured side. His face ached. He rose to his elbow to sip the water on the table beside his infirmary bed. 

“You can talk to her tomorrow, if you want,” Isabelle said, low but lilting. “You could use more rest.”

Magnus noticed the privacy curtains closing him in on three sides. With the bare wall behind him, they made a sort of dark fabric cave for him. The golden light of lamps glowed on the other side and cast shadows.

“No, I should get it over with.” Jace let out a sigh and rubbed his face. Magnus recognized his silhouette on the mattress just beyond the curtains. Isabelle sat beside him, long hair cascading like a wave, but Magnus’s eyes locked immediately on the tall shadow still standing.

“She won’t be armed,” Alec said. “You have that going for you.”

Alec was safe. Alec was here and okay. Magnus let out a low, grateful breath as he laid back down. 

“Yeah, thanks, Alec.” Jace snorted and stood gingerly. Isabelle rose with him and closed him in a hug, their shadows becoming one. Alec stood, unmoving, a few steps away. “I’m so sorry, Iz,” Jace said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Isabelle’s arm extended from the embracing mass and Alec moved to join. Magnus imagined it wasn’t without a fond roll of the eyes. “I love you idiots,” Isabelle murmured, hugging them. 

“Love you, too, Izzy,” Alec replied, warm and sincere. 

They broke apart, Isabelle kissing each brother’s cheek. “I’ll tell Clary you’re coming to see her.”

“Thanks,” Jace said.

Isabelle walked away, her shadow and the click of her heels growing distant. Leaving Jace and Alec alone. Magnus swallowed and tried to look away, but couldn’t.

“Want to come with me?” Jace joked.

“No way.” Alec’s smirk was audible in every word. “You’re on your own for this one.”

“I deserve that.” Jace nodded. “You should go to bed. Magnus said you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I’m fine. I’m actually gonna stay and check on him.”

“Yeah, that’s good. You should.”

The two shadows stood facing one another, arms clasped around themselves, bodies rigid. It was Jace who broke the silence. “Hey, I wanted—It’s none of my business, but when we were sitting there, before you guys got there,” he said. “Magnus told me this story about horses.”

Magnus tensed beneath his thin sheet, every wound twinging.

“Why was he talking about horses?”

“I don’t know. I think he was trying to keep me awake. But he told me about this guy, some Arabian horse trainer he knew that had horses for pets. This guy told him ‘You have to be careful with a horse that loves you because it’ll run for you until its heart gives out.’ You should have seen him, Alec. He was... It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. He ripped those people apart.”

“Your report said you were outnumbered.”

“No, yeah, it was the right call. But, Alec, man, he wasn’t doing any of that for me. He did all of that _for you_. He rescued me _for you_.”

Magnus barely breathed. His cheeks burned hot. He felt stripped of his skin with his shameful, desperate heart bared and beating on the floor between two men standing a curtain away. 

“Just be careful with him,” Jace finished.

Alec said nothing for several moments. His shadow stood stock still. “He’s the scariest thing you’ve seen, but I’m the one who needs to be careful with him.”

“Yeah. It’s weird, but I don’t—Magnus could never hurt you. I think it’d kill him.”

Alec shifted slightly on his feet, uncrossed and recrossed his arms. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you should know. Not like you’d play around or anything, but he’s all in. And he’s...you know, he’s _Magnus_ , so that’s...it’s a lot. He’s a lot. I just want you to know what you’re getting into.”

“Okay.” Alec nodded, then shifted again. 

“I should go see Clary. You good?”

Alec nodded. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. Uh, thanks.”

Jace stepped close to hug Alec, thumping him on the back a few times, before parting again. “Get some sleep.”

“You, too. Yeah,” Alec replied. He sounded distracted. “Good luck.”

Magnus watched as Alec stood alone in the silence and the lamp light. He didn’t want to watch. He closed his eyes, but only opened them again. Alec swayed on his feet, his long shadow stretching across the curtain. Magnus waited for retreating footsteps, waited for Alec’s shape to grow small and distant. He wouldn’t blame him. Jace was right; Magnus was a lot. He was too much. He’d been too much for so many people.

Instead, Alec’s shadow turned and grew larger.

Magnus snapped his eyes shut, hoping the dark would hide his tense jaw and pounding heart. The curtain rattled as Alec opened it and slipped through. Magnus felt the air move as Alec crouched beside him.

“Hey.” A touch fell light against his shoulder. “Magnus.” 

Magnus opened his eyes and sighed, as though just waking up. “What time is it?” he asked.

“It’s late. How’re you feeling?”

“A little sore. Tired.”

“Okay if I sit with you for a second?”

Magnus nodded and slid his hips over to make room on the mattress, wincing as the wound on his side complained. Alec sat, his weight dipping Magnus toward him, as if he wasn’t already pulled to him like a magnet. He fussed with the sheet at Magnus’s waist, straightening it and tugging it across him more securely. A moment later, he stilled, face unreadable in the dim.

Magnus couldn’t stop the tectonic thud of his heart. Alec knew now and Magnus couldn’t deny it. The proof of it was there for him to see, in the blood that had stained their clothes, and the wounds that decorated his body. He felt more naked than naked, and beyond everything else, he felt the desperate need to apologize. His love was a heavy, unwieldy thing he’d placed in Alec’s lap. 

“I wanted to thank you,” Alec said, “for bringing him back to us. To—to me. I’ve read the report, a couple of times, actually, and it’s—you were... Just, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Magnus replied tensely. 

Alec nodded and fell silent again. The scant light outlined his profile in gold. Magnus wanted to touch him, maybe place a comforting hand on his arm, but he didn’t know what Alec wanted from him right now. He didn’t know how much of him was too much.

“Magnus, the bond that Jace and I have...it’s hard to explain if you haven’t felt it, and it can make other relationships seem—”

Suddenly, Magnus didn’t think he could bear hearing it. “You don’t need to say anything, Alexander,” he said quickly. “It’s okay. You’ll never love me like you love Jace and I understand that. I accept it.”

“I don’t want to love you like that, Magnus.” Alec turned to him, casting his face in darkness.

“That’s not what I... The way I feel—felt about Jace…” he continued, shaking his head lightly. “It was my dirty secret for so many years. I mean, he’s my brother, my parabatai. When I thought of him sometimes...I felt sick, like I was sick to want—like there was something wrong with me. But when I think of you...” A helpless smile curved gold across his face. “I like thinking about you. I feel...happy,” he said, as if discovering the word for the first time. “You make me feel good. So what you did back there, for Jace—for—for me...”

Magnus couldn’t respond through the emotion knotting his throat. He sat up, ignoring the pain, and closed his arms around Alec’s shoulders. Alec leaned into his embrace. Magnus watched his head turn downward, tilt toward him. Then, Alec breathed in deep, a heaving desperate sort of breath, and Magnus was shocked to realize he was crying. “Thank you for loving me so much,” Alec said, voice cracking at the edges. “I don’t deserve it.”

“You do, you do,” Magnus murmured. He slid his damaged fingers into cool hair, pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m sorry I’m—I can be so much.”

“You’re perfect. I just want to deserve it.”

“You do. I promise, you do.”

Alec buried his face against his neck, leaving kisses as he sniffled and tried to calm himself. “I need him, but I need you, too. I need Izzy and Max. I know that’s selfish.”

“It’s not selfish to need people.”

“I need the people I love, Magnus,” Alec said, muffled against Magnus’s skin. His grip was almost painfully tight on Magnus’s arms and it felt perfect. “When I saw them grabbing you, I—it scared the hell out of me.”

“It’s okay,” Magnus said, strained. “Thank you for saving me.”

“I should have told you sooner how I feel. You mean so much to me.”

Alec dropped his hands to Magnus’s waist, holding him gently over the bandage. He touched their foreheads together. Magnus closed his eyes, overwhelmed to feel Alec so real and here with him. This would always be what held him fast, Magnus supposed, these moments when the unbreakable soldier slipped away and he found himself in the arms of this glorious, fragile thing who loved so nakedly.

“You shouldn’t be sitting up,” Alec said at last, emotion still thickening his words. “You’re hurt.”

“I don’t care.”

Alec laughed, a wet, deliriously happy sound. “I know, that’s the problem.” He let out a breath that gusted against Magnus’s lips. “Lay back down. C’mon.”

Magnus did as told; he still felt weak and wounded; but he couldn’t stop staring. Tears glimmered on Alec’s cheekbones, his teeth shone white in his smile, and Magnus had never seen anyone more beautiful. As he lowered to his back, he kept hold of Alec’s arms, his hands, he didn’t want to stop feeling him. “Stay with me. I need you, too.”

Alec sniffled again and nodded. He settled beside Magnus on his side, one arm curved under his head as a pillow, the other over Magnus’s waist, and his lips tender against Magnus’s bare shoulder. Magnus breathed in and let himself revel in it. Alec loved him. Alec wanted him. Alec needed him.

“Kiss me,” Magnus whispered, turning to him in the dark.

“You have a split lip.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“I’ve been hit in the face before. I know it hurts.”

“Well, then, it’s going to hurt no matter what. I’d rather it hurt because you’re kissing me.” 

Alec exhaled lightly. “Can’t argue with that logic, I guess.” He lifted up, touching a soft kiss to the broken skin on Magnus’s bottom lip. His tongue slid out, lapping at the wound, sending a confusing mix of pain and deep pleasure through Magnus’s spine. Magnus moaned and slid a thumb across Alec’s damp cheek, buried his bandaged hand in his hair to pull him closer.

Alec rolled atop him like a crashing wave, hips to hips, mouth hot and hungry. Magnus had Alec’s t-shirt off between one kiss and the next, hands greedy to feel that Alec was here with him, healthy, his, and whole. Which almost distracted him from the fact that he wasn’t.

“You okay? We should stop,” Alec said, halting when he heard Magnus’s hiss of pain.

“Just pulled on the bandage. It’s fine,” Magnus replied, craning up for another kiss, but Alec backed away, eyes dark with concern and desire.

“We should wait.” He exhaled, reluctant, and kissed Magnus again, breathing out against his neck. He dipped his head lower, soft hair tickling against Magnus’s sensitive skin. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Magnus’s sternum, warm tongue slicking lower. His thumb stroked one nipple as he dragged his damp lips down the curve of Magnus’s ribs.

“Alexander,” Magnus hummed. He threaded his fingers through Alec’s hair, hips lifting. “If you’re trying to wind me down, you’re going the wrong way.”

Another sinful flick of the tongue against Magnus’s stomach, and Alec let out a long breath. He dropped a kiss to the bandage on his side before sliding back to the bed. 

“I was not objecting.” Magnus pouted. 

Alec smiled fondly. “No, I just got carried away. I may have read the report a few times today.” He bit his bottom lip, fingers slipping off the bandage to appreciatively trace the dips and rises of Magnus’s muscles.

“Good reading?”

“I wish I’d been there. And not just because I would have taken out those archers before they even thought about targeting you.” Alec forced his fingertips to stop stroking Magnus’s abdomen. “Sounds like you were something to see,” he said. “You should have heard all the gossip in the hallways. You would have loved it.”

 _I love you_ was all Magnus could think.

“Raj stopped me this morning and said, ‘I heard what your guy did.’ He said it was incredible.”

Magnus craned back, inspecting what he could see of Alec’s expression. “You look quite smug about that.”

“Well, yeah,” Alec said, his satisfied smile deepening. “My guy.”

“Your guy?”

“Mmhm. _My guy_ saved the day. _My guy_ is the most powerful person in the city.”

“The city?” Magnus scoffed. “The country, easily. Possibly the entire continent, if Catarina is still in Asia.”

Grinning, Alec brushed his nose against Magnus’s cheek, leaving a small kiss along his jaw. “You’re all anyone can talk about.”

“We could give them more to talk about. Imagine. A scandalous tryst in the infirmary with a gorgeous shadowhunter.”

Alec sighed like that was very, very tempting. He leaned up to kiss his lips again, so fleeting and careful, so much less than Magnus craved. One hand stroked Magnus’s hair, fond and tender. “I need you to rest. I need...I need you,” he said, like it was getting easier and easier to admit.

“You have me,” Magnus assured. “Completely.”

Alec smiled, small and pleased. If it were brighter, Magnus suspected he’d see a flush on his cheeks. Alec’s hand left Magnus’s stomach, instead craning to root around beneath the bed. 

“I threw your shirt very far away,” Magnus told him. “No point even trying to put it back on.”

Alec’s smirk curved higher in the hazy lamp light. “Wasn’t gonna.” He pulled out a folded blanket that he began shaking loose over them. Magnus tried to help, but Alec swatted at his hands. “Hey,” he scolded. “Let me take care of you, dammit.”

Magnus snorted a laugh. “Yes, sir.” Alec draped the blanket across their feet, then over Magnus’s shoulders, leaving his arm there, too. Magnus let out a contented sigh as Alec settled against him skin to skin, warm and solid. “Did you get any sleep?” He felt Alec shake his head no.

“Not really. Too worried about you.” Alec yawned. 

Magnus leaned his head against Alec’s, almost rolling his eyes. Too many hopelessly devoted horses in this situation, he thought, and drifted to sleep on the sound of Alec’s breath.


End file.
